


things that are real

by kinky_kneazle



Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: Multi, Scars, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-01
Updated: 2012-09-01
Packaged: 2017-11-13 09:07:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinky_kneazle/pseuds/kinky_kneazle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's been led to bed by starlets and politicians and more deadly assassins than he cares to remember, but walking up the stairs to the Woodcomb's bedroom feels more dangerous than anything that has come before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	things that are real

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aeny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeny/gifts).



> Love to the people who helped and beta'd and all of that <3

So. This is unexpected.

Because Ellie and Devon Woodcomb are young and happy and _not spies_ and definitely not the sort to suggest… whatever this is.

Because he'd given up on relationships - _real_ relationships - two decades ago when he left Alex Coburn behind and pulled the identity of John Casey around him. Oh, there had been affairs, seduction for Uncle Sam and incendiary passions with people who thought he was a war correspondent or an energy consultant or an arms dealer, but no one knew who he really was. 

No one who knew he had a daughter and that he voted Republican and that he sang opera in the shower. Without knowing that how could there possibly be anything _real_ and _lasting_?

But Burbank had changed him and exposed him and now he is sipping on whiskey and looking at a woman cooking an evening meal for him as her husband's strong fingers massage his thigh and they might not know all his secrets, but they know enough. They know the important bits - the killing and living a lie and eavesdropping on American citizens bits - and they still invited him to live under their roof and break bread with them - share their bed - and he doesn't know how to feel about any of it.

"You're mad," he tells Devon and only gets a chuckle in response.

"Have you been doing the stretching exercises?" Ellie asks, completely ignoring the topic at hand. "Yoga would help."

He sneers, because there's no other appropriate reaction to the suggestion he take up yoga, but she just smiles as if she can see beneath Casey to John who lays beneath. Or was it Alex? Or has Burbank turned him into someone new that he hasn't figured out yet?

Perhaps Ellie knew. Perhaps when she'd cut him open to dig the bullet out of his side as her husband worked at the one in his leg, she'd discovered something inside him that she hasn't told him about yet. It's the only explanation for this insanity.

"Next thing I know you'll be telling me sex is good for my leg."

Awesome stands and slaps his back. "Endorphin rush, bro. It would do you a world of good. Better painkiller than anything else we have to offer."

Ellie carries the food to the table, all the judgment that used to be on her face gone, only a fond smile remaining for the both of them, him in the armchair and Awesome at his back, fingers now working at the tension in his neck. The tension had shown up ten seconds after they'd started this conversation.

It probably has something to do with him saving that idiot brother of hers. It hadn't been the first time he'd saved Bartowski's life, but this was the first time she'd _seen_ it, and the first time he'd required surgery afterwards. 

He'd thought her gratitude would be assuaged by taking him in as he recuperated, but clearly not. Now there was this, and Woodcomb was going along with it because he was an intelligent man who always agreed with his wife. He was enough of an adrenalin junkie to think that a threesome with her and a trained killer was a great idea.

The scary thing is, Casey knows these two as well as he'd known any mark he'd had to take out. He'd listened to them fight, listened to them make up. He had recordings of Devon's proposal, for God's sake. And then, later, they actually became friends. Became family, so that he knew how they'd react to any situation. And still, he had never anticipated this, never would have expected it of either of them.

Devon lets him make his own way to the table where Ellie is placing pot roast.

"This isn't about gratitude," Ellie says as she dishes pumpkin onto his plate. Is she reading his mind? When did he become so easy to read?

"What's it about then?" he asks.

She shrugs, and Casey watches closely, looking for a hint of what is going on. "If having you and Sarah and Chuck around has taught us anything, it's that we shouldn't wait."

"Carpe diem, yeah?" Awesome puts in as he starts shoveling food into his mouth. 

"And you want a threesome?"

"We want _you_ ," Ellie says, as if correcting a small child. "Are you going to eat?"

He looks down at his plate, still full of food. 

"Um," he says in reply, and it's not as if he's never been propositioned before, not as if he hasn't had a threesome, so why is his brain not working? But this is different, because it's never been the smart doctor and his sexy wife who have always seemed to be _not_ the sort of couple who would do this sort of thing.

He looks at Awesome who shrugs as well, as if this is really not something to worry about; as if it's something that happens every day. "What the lady wants," he says, as if it explains _everything_. Maybe it does. 

Ellie stands and takes his hand, as if realizing he won't be eating anything tonight. He's been led to bed by starlets and politicians and more deadly assassins than he cares to remember, but walking up the stairs to the Woodcombs’ bedroom feels more dangerous than anything that has come before. 

Things that are real are always the most deadly.

"Weight off that leg, Mr. Casey. Doctor's orders." Devon accompanies the command with a gentle push. Normally Casey would break fingers for something like that, but he allows it, lets himself fall gently to the middle of the bed.

He shifts slightly to get his leg comfortable and by the time he looks up again Awesome has shucked his t-shirt and started on Ellie's blouse. Casey watches as miles of smooth, unmarked skin is revealed, and tries not to think about what's under his own clothes – scars and wrinkles and more scars on top of that.

And it's not that he's ashamed; he's proud of every single mark received in the defense of his country. It's just that these two make him feel so old. But they've seen every inch of him – inside and out, truth be told – and Devon still looks at him with intent. 

Ellie smiles a wicked smile that makes him forget their ages, forget his scars, forget everything but the sudden transition of his cock from semi-hard to painfully erect. It's a state that's been threatening since the topic was first raised, but he's managed to keep his body at DEFCON 3 until now. Until the Woodcombs crawl onto their bed with him and start to work at his clothes.

If he'd thought about it, which he never had because he had more control over his mind than that, he would have thought Devon would be a talker, the sort of person who couldn't shut up even in bed. But apparently Devon is happy keeping his mouth busy in other, better ways, like mapping his skin.

It's Ellie's smaller hands that pull his shorts over his hips and wrap around his cock.

Devon hauls him up to sitting and wrestles the shirt off him properly. There's a pause after that and Casey knows he's seeing evidence of torture and burns and knives. Seeing the still red skin around the latest scar. He waits for the comments, they always come.

"You are _built_ , bro," Devon says. "You and me are gonna work out together once you're back to full fitness."

Then Devon bends and his tongue traces the silvery line between Casey's shoulder blades where a knife almost sliced through his spinal column. He gasps and arches and bucks up into Ellie's hand, because there's some scar tissue that loses sensation, but that scar never did. Ellie has that fond smile on her face again and then _she_ bends and takes him in her mouth and he can't do anything but gasp.

Somewhere in the back of his mind where he remembers that he's a spy and always in control, he thinks that he should be doing something. Touching them, making them feel as good as he does. But Ellie is too far away, he can only thread his fingers through her hair, run a tender finger across her lips where they wrap around him. And Devon has his back – is _at_ his back – and the only part of him Casey can reach is his thigh, strong muscle resting against Casey's hip.

He should feel unsafe like this. Threatened, or at least trapped. Where's his escape plan? There's always been one before. But he's not alarmed at all, and that's more dangerous than anything that's come before. _Feeling_ is dangerous, he only has to look at what happened to Walker to know how true that is. But there was a month in this house under their care, and he didn't even see the trap as he walked into it.

Teeth nipping at his ear bring him back to the moment just in time to see Devon hand Ellie a foil packet.

"Yes?" Devon asks and Casey nods. 

Sure fingers smooth the condom down his flesh and then Ellie is straddling his lap, Devon shifting to kneel behind him, cock hard and hot against his back. Ellie looks deep into his eyes and Casey has no idea what she's looking for, less idea of what she finds, but suddenly she's kissing him, and she doesn't stop as she slides onto his cock.

"So hot," Devon murmurs between kisses and nips. He shifts at Casey's back so that his thighs bracket Casey's hips and his arms snake around Casey's waist to caress Ellie's skin.

She moves slowly, careful of new wounds, if not the old. Her hands are on his shoulders, pushing herself up before sinking down, and he can feel Devon nuzzling at her fingers, licking around them in a way that sends shivers down Casey's spine. 

His own hands find her thighs, find Devon's hands already there. Devon tangles their fingers together and guides Casey's hand between her legs. The first touch of their thumbs on her clit brings an answering clench around his cock and he groans into her mouth.

"Is this what you wanted, Ellie? Does he feel good?"

She pulls away from Casey's mouth to gasp, "Yes," before she shifts to kiss Devon over his shoulder.

One of Devon's arms wraps tight around his waist. Casey can feel Devon's hips moving, his cock wet with pre-come moving against Casey's spine. He matches Ellie's rhythm and Casey is surrounded. Wrapped up. Safe in this swirling haze of ecstasy they have him cocooned in.

"We are the luckiest men in the world," Devon says and Casey barks a laugh.

"I still don't know how you convinced her to marry you."

"Neither do I."

Ellie rolls her eyes then bends to bite at his nipple. "Pay attention."

"Yes, Ma'am," Casey replies before pulling her into another kiss. He's following Awesome's lead, circling her clit as she grinds down harder. She's beyond beautiful, hair plastered to her forehead with sweat. She is not all muscles and scars and killer instincts. Ellie is kind and smart and real (so _real_ ) that he has to wrap his hands around her waist and pull her down again and again.

Devon chuckles against his ear when he loses control so Devon wrestles it back. He reaches behind himself, wraps a hand around Devon's cock – squeezes - just to hear his breath stutter.

"You first," Devon says, and Casey can't deny he wants to come. Can't deny he wants to buck up into Ellie's heat until he loses his mind. Loses the lies and the illusions and the things that aren't real. He wants to thrust into her – into them – until he _finds_ something. Finds himself.

He shakes his head, trying to find his centre again, trying to find the spy, but it does no good. Ellie's hand is pulling at his arm, drawing it back to her waist.

"Please," she says and he can't deny her. His fingers are hard enough to bruise but she doesn't seem to care, she just kisses him harder. "Devon," she says next and it's a plea that Devon seems to understand.

"I'm here, Babe," he says. "I've got you both," and it's a strong statement for a man Casey can feel rutting against his spine. But clearly it's enough for Ellie, because she clenches around him, pulses, cries out. Grinds down with a wordless moan that sends heat shooting through his brain and straight out of his cock.

They slump together and Casey's glad of Devon's solid form at his back, because he wouldn't still be upright without it. He can feel Devon working his cock in quick sure strokes and he turns to tell him to wait, that he'll help. Devon doesn't let him talk, just captures his mouth with a fierce passion that Awesome – laid back, frat-boy Awesome – shouldn't have in him, and Casey responds by biting that lower lip and swallowing the moan that coincides with a wet stripe painting his back. 

Devon shudders as he milks the rest of the orgasm, then collapses sideways, leaving Casey to fall back over his legs. Ellie laughs at them both as she starts to move, taking care of clean up duty.

"Stay there, John," she says. "You're still on the injured list."

"Yes, Ma'am," he says, because there's no energy for anything else. Devon's hands are in his hair and he wants to shove them away because he's not the sort of person who likes his head stroked, he just isn't, but again... energy. He moves at Ellie's gentle push and feels a warm flannel wiping his back clean. "I should-" he says, drawing on his never-ending reserves of internal fortitude to get to a standing position.

"I said stay."

Casey doesn't fight it, doesn't want to fight it, lets them curl in on either side of him, Ellie resting her head on his shoulder, Devon resting his hand on her hip. Her fingers draw patterns on his chest, tug at the hair there.

"They had me convinced you were an alcoholic for a while, you know?" she says. 

He growls. "I remember."

"I like the real you better."


End file.
